


Dancing’s Not A Crime

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Series: Perryshmirtz Week 2018 [2]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Cotillion - Freeform, Dancing, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mission Fic, Mute!Perry, POV Third Person Limited, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, human!perry, very very unbetaed, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Doofenshmirtz is supposedly planning something Evil for the Mayor’s fancy cotillion. Perry is tasked to stop him... but it turns out Doof’s plans aren’t actually as Evil as Perry has been led to believe.





	Dancing’s Not A Crime

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic this morning. It’s twenty minutes to midnight and it’s finally done. I’m going to shoot myself. 
> 
> Perryshmirtz Week Day 2 Fill: ~~fighting~~ /dancing. 
> 
> Title is from the song of the same name by Panic! at the Disco.

“Ah, Agent P. There you are.” Perry frowns, unimpressed, at the sight of Major Monogram on the monitor in his lair. The Major seems to be tied up, a yo-yo visible on the string somewhere near his left arm. “Ignore the yo-yo,” he adds, glaring offscreen. “ _ Someone  _ thought it would be a good idea to practice their yo-yo tricks while we were waiting for you.” 

“That someone was you, sir,” comes Carl’s voice from off-camera. Major Monogram blusters for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“Hm. Hah. Anyways. As you probably know, the Mayor is holding the Fancy Girls Cotillion at City Hall today. We have word that  _ Doof _ is going to be there, no doubt to try and cause trouble. We need  _ you  _ to get out there and stop him.” 

Perry nods once and then stands, saluting up at the screen before heading out of the lair.

“You know, you don’t have to blame me for everything to try to look good in front of Agent P, sir,” he hears Carl say. Perry can’t help the amused smirk that flits over his features. 

“Not cool, Carl,” is the last thing he catches Monogram saying before the elevator door closes behind him.

* * *

 

It’s both a stroke of luck and a hindrance to his plan that Candace is planning on going to the Cotillion. He can only hope that Heinz’s plan won’t be too show-offy today, so that they can fade into the background while the party is going on.

_ Do you need a ride, sweetie?  _ Perry signs to her once he’s back in the house, on his way up the stairs to his room. He interrupts her in the middle of a rant to Linda about how excited she is for the dance, because she invited Jeremy and she knows he’s going to dance with her  _ all night _ . Linda shoots him a grateful look. 

“Oh! That would be great! Thanks, Uncle Perry!” 

_ Mind if I stick around? I heard there’s going to be a great buffet.  _ Perry rubs his stomach, grinning with enthusiasm, and Candace laughs. 

“That’s fine. As long as I get to dance with Jeremy,  _ nothing  _ can ruin today!” 

“The two of you’d better get ready, then,” Linda says, amusement clear in her voice. Candace pulls her phone out of her pocket to check the time and  _ shrieks _ , pushing past both adults to sprint up the stairs. Perry grins at Linda, who squeezes his shoulder. 

“I’ve got errands to run. I appreciate you bringing Candace to the dance.” 

_ It’s no problem. She seems excited.  _

“You have no idea.” Linda laughs, shaking her head. “It’s nice to see her riled up about something other than ‘busting the boys,’ though.” 

Perry nods in agreement, and then excuses himself to his own room to ready himself to leave.

* * *

 

“Thanks again, Uncle Perry! I’m gonna go find Jeremy!” Candace doesn’t wait for a response before she runs off, and Perry only smiles after her fondly. He would do anything for his niblings, that was for sure. No matter how crazy things were, they were steadily one of the best things in his life. He would be forever grateful to his stepbrother for letting him live with his family after everything had gone south back home. 

Perry made sure he’d stuck the keys to his car in his pocket before locking the door, gaze flicking from Candace in the doorway --it seemed that she’d found one of her friends-- of the Town Hall to the rest of the crowd slowly trickling inside. He can’t see Heinz, not yet, but he has no doubt that he’ll be here. Any event held by Roger was bound to piss Heinz off enough to attempt retaliation, even if it was something as silly as a morale booster for teenage girls in town. 

With no sign of his nemesis in sight, Perry makes his way into the building, nodding at a few of the older women who have dressed themselves up for the occasion. The smiles he gets back would be hilarious if he wasn’t preoccupied with his mission at hand. He’s certain they probably haven’t seen anything like him before: teal hair, brown suit crisply pressed, fedora to top the look off. He is also well-aware that he cleans up much better than he acts like he can. It throws people off their game, when the short, stocky, punk of a man suddenly seems like he could be the respectful and respected father of three well-behaved children. 

Once inside, Perry takes a seat at the edge of the dance floor at a table with an unobstructed view of the door. He double-checks his breast pocket for his notebook and pen --they’re still there, a fact for which he’s grateful in a public situation like this-- and settles in to wait for Heinz to arrive. 

He doesn’t have to wait long. The dancing has just begun, the lights down low, when Perry catches sight of his nemesis slipping in through the front entrance, following a group of teenage girls wearing black dresses and black lipstick. He recognises Vanessa among them and barely resists the urge to laugh at the absurdity of Heinz --he’s forgone his lab coat in favour of a simple black turtleneck and slacks-- trailing behind the goth teens like some kind of out-of-place mother hen. 

Vanessa turns to her father and says something that Perry is much too far away to hear, and Heinz frowns. He looks like he argues, but Vanessa shakes her head. When she turns away from him, Perry sees her rolling her eyes. Her friends giggle behind their hands as they walk away, leaving Heinz looking lost in the doorway. 

Perry waits until Heinz has travelled further inside to react to his presence. Heinz is standing by the bar (a poorly-lit booth near the table Perry had chosen to sit and wait with signs posted over every available inch to try to deter anyone not of-age from visiting) when Perry stands and makes his way over to him. He taps Heinz on the shoulder to get his attention, and Heinz spins around, a drink hand that he nearly spills when his gaze lands on Perry. 

“Perry the--” he begins, but pauses, glancing around and then lowering his voice. “Perry the Platypus?” he asks, confusion colouring his tone. “What are you doing here?” 

Perry frowns, and then gestures around pointedly, first to the dance floor and then to the stage, where a podium is set in the centre for the mayor’s inevitable speech later on in the evening. 

Heinz frowns too, in obvious confusion, but when he follows Perry’s gaze to the stage, the confusion clears. “Oh… Oh! You think  _ I’m  _ here to do  _ evil!”  _ He laughs, and then shakes his head. “No, Perry the Platypus. I mean, I  _ thought  _ about it. I even  _ started  _ building an -inator! But then Vanessa said  _ she  _ was going to come, which meant that  _ I  _ had to come and look out for my little girl! There’s no evil plan today, Perry the Platypus.” Perry looks Heinz up and down, searching his body language for any sign of a lie. When his gaze lands back on Heinz’s face… Heinz is flushed. Perry blames it on the alcohol in his hands. “Cross my heart,” Heinz adds, pulling one hand from his cup to trace an “X” over his chest. Slowly, Perry relaxes. He really wishes that Monogram’s so-called surveillance was a little more  _ accurate _ , sometimes. Knowing him, he’d just made some kind of assumption and called it good. 

“You look good,” Heinz says, and then, his eyes go wide, as if he didn’t mean to say what he’d just said. Perry blinks in surprise. “I-- Well, you do,” Heinz tells him defensively, gesturing with his drink. Perry resists the urge to wince as a few drops slosh over the edge. “Is that a new suit?” 

Unsure of where the sudden flattery is coming from, Perry shakes his head slowly. 

“Oh. Well. You should wear it more often. Although I suppose fighting me in a  _ suit  _ would make things more difficult for you. But if it was more difficult for  _ you _ , it would be  _ easier  _ for  _ me!  _ You should definitely wear it more often when you’re  _ thwarting  _ me, Perry the Platypus. I think that would be a real  _ improvement _ .” Heinz is rambling, like he so often gets lost in doing. Perry doesn’t mind. He used to, back when they’d first begun as nemeses. Perry’s silence often meant that Heinz felt the need to fill it, and Perry never  _ minded  _ silence to begin with. But he’s grown fond of Heinz’s bumbling explanations for things too simple to beget a normal explanation. 

He gestures to the drink in Heinz’s hands, and Heinz pauses in his rambling. “This? It’s some kind of…  _ punch _ , I think?” Heinz takes a sip and then shrugs. “It tastes like sugar and alcohol,” he states. That’s good enough for Perry. He gestures to the bar, and then to Heinz. 

“Sure, I can get you one. I didn’t know you  _ drink _ , Perry the Platypus.” Perry shrugs. He doesn’t usually drink much, but this  _ is  _ a party. And it’s not like he’s working, anymore. If he’s off the clock, then he’ll have a drink. Monogram can yell all he wants later about professionality and a lack of it. (As if Monogram  _ has  _ any room to yell; Perry isn’t afraid to bring up the yo-yo incident.) 

Heinz turns back with a second cup of the indiscriminate punch and hands it over. “Are you going to stay?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. Perry takes a sip of the punch —it really  _ is  _ just sugared alcohol— and then nods once. Heinz looks surprised, so Perry cocks his head in return, a silent question. Heinz flushes again. 

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” he states, on the defensive again. Perry can’t help but wonder why this, of all things, seems to have him so flustered. “I didn’t know you went to  _ parties. _ ” 

Perry shrugs a little. He’s considering something to say when he feels a body push at him from behind, and he stumbles, just barely managing to keep his punch from spilling as he falls into Heinz. 

Heinz catches him —with a grunt, but he  _ does _ catch him— and Perry twists around, turning to see who his assailiant is. 

“Sorry, there! I didn’t see you— Heinz?” Roger Doofenshmirtz is standing there, leaning casually against the bar. “Did I just knock over your  _ date?”  _

“What?!” Heinz looks down at Perry, still in his arms, and then his eyes go wide and his flush deepens. “No!” He pushes Perry away, and Perry rights himself with some indignation, brushing off his suit with his free hand and glaring a little at Heinz. 

“He isn’t my  _ date _ ,  _ Roger _ ,” he sneers. Perry frowns, and it deepens with concern as Heinz continues. “He wouldn’t even… He would never  _ date  _ me. It isn’t even  _ conceivable _ . I mean, do you  _ see  _ him?” Both Roger and Heinz’s gazes turn to Perry, who… suddenly understands a lot, in a very small moment of time. 

The blushing, the way Heinz has been meticulously cleaning his apartment before their battles. The look that Heinz is giving him now, halfway between desperation and disappointment. 

There’s only one logical solution, now that Perry is aware of it. 

_ Actually, I am his date,  _ Perry signs. Heinz’s eyes go impossibly wider as he works out the meaning behind the words, while Roger’s brow furrows. 

“Perry the—“ Heinz tosses a nervous look Roger’s way, and Roger looks back at him in confusion. “P-Perry?” he tries. His civilian name sounds strange, coming from Heinz’s mouth. Perry doesn’t know whether or not he likes it. But he nods, near-imperceptibly, towards Heinz. 

_ He’s just shy,  _ Perry adds, and nods a second time, this time in an obvious sign to Heinz to translate for him. 

“He says… that he is my date. And that I’m just…  _ shy? _ ” Heinz is redder than a tomato, which doesn’t hurt the lie any. 

For his part, Roger looks surprised. “I didn’t know you knew Sign Language, Heinz,” he states, and Heinz’s gaze snaps to him, his stance shifting defensively. 

“I—“ he begins, but Perry takes a quick step forward, placing a hand on his arm. He signs fluidly, the same sentence twice, waiting for Heinz to understand. 

“Perry has been… teaching me,” Heinz states after a moment, obviously unsure. Perry nods and smiles blithely up at the mayor, who looks a little confused. He nods, though. 

“It’s good to see you…  _ doing _ something with your life, Heinz,” he says, and Perry can  _ feel  _ Heinz bristle beneath his touch. He squeezes Heinz’s arm lightly, reassuringly. “I’ve got to go  _ mingle _ , and all that. Melanie says it’s ‘good for my image,’ whatever that means.” He gives a laugh —it’s so obviously fake it makes Perry want to gag— and saunters away with the cup of punch he’d apparently gone to get from the bar. 

As soon as Roger is out of earshot, Heinz whirls on Perry. Perry doesn’t flinch; he’s expecting it. 

“Alright, Perry the Platypus—“ Yeah, that definitely sounds better when Heinz says it. It isn’t  _ Heinz  _ without his little quirks. “—What was that all about?”

Perry removes his hand from Heinz’s arm to sign slowly to him,  _ I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.  _

When the message gets across, there’s a change in Heinz’s features. He goes from angrily embarrassed to flustered again, charmingly so. Perry bites the inside of his lip to keep a smile from forming. 

“You did that for me,” he says, wonder dawning. “You pretended to be my  _ date _ , so that  _ Roger  _ would leave me alone?” When Perry nods, Heinz lurches forward, setting his cup messily down on the bar before wrapping his arms around a surprised Perry. 

He hugs back, though. He’s not about to let the opportunity go to waste. 

“Thank you, Perry the Platypus,” Heinz murmurs, and his voice is so close to his ear that it makes Perry shiver. Perry squeezes him lightly, to show that he heard, and then pulls back a moment later when he can feel Heinz’s grip loosening. 

They stand there for a few minutes after releasing from the embrace. Heinz picks his cup back up and downs it, and Perry sips at his own drink. He isn’t sure what can be said, now. 

Heinz, bless his awkward soul, beats him to the thought. “Do you— Would you like to dance with me, Perry the Platypus?” When Perry looks back at him, he’s blushing again. Perry wonders if it’s going to become a  _ thing _ , and then decides immediately that he is  _ more  _ than okay with it if it is. He nods, and Heinz lets out a breath in a  _ whoosh _ and holds out a hand, dropping his cup back onto the bar once more. Perry does the same and accepts the offered hand, allowing Heinz to lead him onto the dance floor in a less-crowded corner. 

Screw OWCA, screw Monogram. Screw the fact that there’s no way his superiors won’t be hearing about this by his next mission. Perry can’t bring himself to care about how this will look. He’s a professional. He can handle it. 

For now, he wants to dance with Heinz, so he does. And if he gets caught by Candace and Vanessa an hour later with his head against Heinz’s shoulder, well… That’s his own problem. OWCA can suck it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are love~
> 
> Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans


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